The Daughter of Indiana Jones
by Bryn Elizabeth
Summary: What if, ten years before raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana and Marion were married- and had a daughter? What if they separated, and she stayed with her dad? This is the story of Marie Jones.
1. Prologue

Indiana Jones's POV

Indiana Jones's POV

A cry came, and I felt a surge of joy unlike anything else.

"It's a girl!" the doctor shouted.

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I looked over at my beautiful Marion, her dark hair sweaty and tangled, her olive skin flushed. There were tears of joy in her blue eyes as well.

…..

We named her Marie Julianne. She was a beautiful child, with her mother's dark hair and blue eyes, my skin, my smile, my features. She looked just like me.

By the time she was two, her mother and I fought constantly. We still loved each other, but something between us had changed. For Marie's sake, we stayed together.

When Marie was three, we knew we could not live together any longer. The breaking point came when our son was stillborn.

We decided not to divorce, but to separate. Our only conflict was Marie. Where would she go?

Marion decided to move back to Nepal, where she had grown up. Her plan was to reopen a bar that her family had owned.

I would continue here, teaching history and keeping alive my passion for archaeology.

The question that remained was, where would our daughter have the best life?

The answer was obvious. Here, with me, safe in the States was much safer than growing up the daughter of a barmaid in Nepal. Even Marion knew this.

It was settled, and Marion left us for Nepal. We wrote letters, and I would tell her all about Marie and send her pictures. However, we never visited. We knew it would be too hard for all three of us.

Over time, the letters stopped coming. Marie eventually forgot her mother, but I never did. Not for the next ten years I spent without the woman I loved.


	2. Ten Years Later

Ten Years Later

**Ten Years Later**

I am sitting here in French class, learning over and over words to a language I already speak. It's my last class of the day, and all I want is to go home.

However, I can't even go home after class. I have to wait here for another two hours, staying around the campus until Mrs. Johnson is ready to take me to her house, where I'm staying until my father comes home. It's where I always stay while he's out on an archaeological hunt. One day, I'll be able to join him, but not yet.

Mrs. Johnson has one more class to teach and then I still have to wait for her to be ready to leave.

French class is finally over, so I'm sitting in a vacant hallway, reading and thinking. Hopefully this hour will be over soon. I'm tired of just waiting around.

At only thirteen, I'm technically not supposed to go to school here. For most of the day, I go to the junior high, which is about five minutes walking distance from here, the college my dad is a professor at. My school gets out three hours early, and both him and I wanted me to take his history class, so I walk over here and take it, then a French class the administrators are making me take, and eventually journalism in a few weeks.

Today I didn't go to history because of my father's absence. Like I always do when he's away, I helped Mrs. Winston with her children, ages two, five, seven and six months. She lives in a dorm with her husband, who teaches freshman chemistry.

I walked down the hall at the bell to my father's classroom, to pick up anything he had in there and maybe a book to read. When I got there, another man was leaving, and right beside him was my dad! I ran up to him, and he spun me around in his arms like a little kid.

"Why weren't you in class today?" he asked sternly after a kiss on the forehead.

"I thought you were still away. I went to help Mrs. Winston like I always do when you're gone. Did you get it?" He had been in Peru looking for an ancient golden idol.

"I had it!" he cried, frustrated beyond words. "And he took it! Right out of my hands!" I knew exactly whom he meant. Bulloch.

"Again? It's not fair! You go through everything to lose what you gain. All for nothing." He had told me stories of his adventures. They were always dangerous, and oftentimes nearly got him killed. But he was, after all, Indiana Jones.

He ruffled my hair. "I got some other stuff for the museum- Great pieces. But I just wish…" he let his voice trail off.

"Bulloch was dead?" I suggested.

"Marie," he warned. He checked his watch. "I have to go to some quick meeting thing." He handed me some change. "Go to the cafeteria and get us some sodas and potato chips. I should be done by the time you get back."

They were finished when I came back, and in the car we discussed what they had talked about. It had been top secret, of course.

"The Ark of the Covenant? Hitler found the _Ark of the Covenant?_" I was amazed.

"Well, he's looking for it- and he's close. If we can get the funds, I'll be after it as well."

"That's great, but you just got back." My stomach sank. "I'll miss you."

We pulled up to our house. "We'll talk later," he told me.

We talked about his adventures in Peru all night. After dinner, we were reading when a knock came at the door. We were both already in our pajamas, and my dad opened the door to find Brody, from the museum.

"You're going!" he announced proudly. I knew what that meant: my dad would be leaving again, maybe for weeks.

After Brody left, I was climbing into bed, my dad there to tuck me in like a toddler, just like every night.

"I'm going to miss you," I told him again.

"You're going to come with me."

"With you?" was I finally old enough to aid him?

"I'll be staying with old friends in Cairo. There'll be children for you to look after and play with." Oh. I was not to be an assistant, just to go. And baby-sit. I looked up at him. It was clearly written all over his face that there was something he wasn't telling me.

"And?" I probed.

"We'll need your mother."

I was shocked. Apparently I hadn't seen her in ten years, since I was three. I didn't even remember her. She lived far away, in Nepal.


	3. Nepal

Nepal

**Nepal**

"Stay outside," Dad told me as he walked into my Mom's bar.

I heard shouts, and after a little while he walked back out. "Not now," he said. I knew exactly what he meant. She wasn't ready for him to come walking back through her door after ten years. And I suspected he wasn't ready either.

We stood there for a minute in the snow, staring at the bar, his hand on my shoulder. And then he told me to hide and make no noise. I obeyed, crouching in some thick bushes that were far enough away from the building to be considered safe but close enough to know what was going on. I was shivering, wondering how long I would be hiding like this and why I was in the first place.

I heard shouts and gunshots. I was terrified. And then, the building caught ablaze right in front of my eyes. I was afraid for my parent's lives much more than my own, especially my dad's. I mean, he was Indiana Jones, but mortality has its limits.

Finally, I heard him calling me. "Marie! Marie! Come out now, it's safe!" A female voice joined in the shouts. It could only be my mother. I timidly emerged, and pure fear had a sensible, even adventurous thirteen-year-old girl running to the safe harbor of her father's arms.

"Marie," the woman whispered. Her hair and eyes were the same as mine, I realized with a start. And she just looked so _familiar_. However, it was the voice that surprised me the most. I remembered it. And I was sure I had heard it in my dreams.

"I'm your mother," she said, looking at me, just looking. "Indy," she breathed, "She looks just like you. She's gorgeous."

"I know," he smiled at me. "She's just like me too. But there is a lot of her in you as well." He put his hand on my shoulder.

My mother, Marion, reached out to hug me. I hung back, shy, but Dad tenderly pushed me into the embrace. It was gentle- she was just as scared as I was- but more than a little awkward.

I sat next to my Dad on the pane, and Marion-Mom- sat across the aisle. One of us should have sat with her, after all we had ten years of catching up to do, but I desperately needed to talk to my Dad, to clear some things up.

"You guys never did get divorced, did you?" I asked, my tone light.

"No." he kept his reply short and innocent.

"So, legally you're still married," I clarified. We spoke in whispers so as not to be overheard.

"Yeah. Legally."

"But… you left ten years ago…" I tried my hardest to understand.

"No, I didn't leave." He sighed heavily. "We just knew we couldn't live together anymore. And that you'd have a better life here with me. Technically, she's thee one that left. I haven't moved out of that old house in almost fifteen years."

"Did you come back to her just because you needed that medallion, or because you honestly love her?" I probed.

He pulled his familiar old hat over his eyes. "Is this interrogation over? I'm tired."

"Not until you answer me." He was right when he told my mom I was just like him: Stubborn as a mule.

"It's none of your business."

"Yes it is!" Was he kidding? "You're my parents and this is my life too. What, are you afraid I can't handle the truth or something?"

"Marie." It was more of a plea than a warning. "It's… I don't know if _I _can handle the truth."

I sat there for a moment, thinking. "Did you notice," I asked finally, "That she's still wearing her wedding band?" I had never seen my Dad without the gold ring around his finger.

It took him a moment to reply, and I was a little afraid he had fallen asleep. He twisted the ring, staring at it and then taking it off and gazing at the inscription on the inside: Indiana and Marion. "Yeah, I noticed."


	4. Cairo

Cairo

**Cairo**

We arrived in Cairo in the evening. It was hot even then. We were staying with on of Dad's old friends, Sallah, another archaeologist who had helped my dad a lot. We unfortunately didn't get to see him a lot, since we lived in two different hemispheres. Sallah had several children who immediately took to me, especially a toddler girl named Marah.

Mom and Dad were awkward yet gentle with each other. They were, of course, still married and seemed to remember that. They acted a little like it, and I knew they still loved each other. I wanted to spend time with my parents: my mom because I barely knew her and my dad because I was always with him; but I knew they needed time together. I was wanting more than anything for us to be a family again, but they needed to get used to being together again. I was entirely okay with that. I was just happy to be here in Egypt with them.

She was the real reason I was here, I suspected. Dad had even pretty much told me that. Before, I had been nervous but excited about her. Now, I didn't know. She could have been worse, I supposed.

I was sitting behind the house, playing with Marah, when my mom came to me. "How are you?" she asked quietly, touching my shoulder and then drawing her hand back quickly, nervous.

Vaguely, I wondered if she meant now or for the past ten years. I had a tendency to over-analyze things. "I'm good, you?"

"Good. But I've been better. Your father…"

"Complicates things?" he had a propensity to do that.

"Well, yes. He shows up after ten years…"

"I thought you agreed to separate." I was confused. "He told me-"I stopped myself.

"That I left?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No. No. Just that you guys couldn't live together anymore." I paused, trying to get the story straight in my own head. "That you went to Nepal and he stayed in the States with me."

"True enough."

"Enough?" I wished the story was simpler.

"Never mind," she said quickly, seeming anxious to avoid the subject. "Why talk about that when we have ten years to make up for? Does your dad take good care of you?" Her tone was almost skeptical, like she expected me to be neglected or abused or something.

"Yes," I grinned. "He's a great dad. I love him very much." I really did. My dad was my absolute favorite person in the entire world.

She smiled. "I'm glad. I used to wonder if we'd made the right choice about you. I know now we did." She looked at me for a minute without speaking. "You do look just like him." I had heard that often. "Did you inherit his love for history?"

"Oh yes! And archaeology… my passions."

"Does he take you on his, erm, adventures?"

"No. Not usually."

"I know exactly what that's like, to be left at home when he's away like that." There was bitterness in her voice. It was obvious that the separation had hurt them both terribly, and that he had hurt her in small ways before.

"He said I can go along when I'm a little older. That now I wouldn't be safe." I noticed how the conversation had, once again, turned to Dad. "For now, I study a lot. I want to know as much as him."

"A high aspiration- but a good one. He's a fine, smart man, your father."

I nodded in agreement. "I know."

"What else do you like?" she asked curiously.

"Writing, reading, stuff like that."

"You're a scholarly one. Take any interesting classes?"

"Well, I just go to regular junior high. Then, I walk over to the college and take Dad's history class, a forced French class, and soon journalism."

"Forced French?" She giggled.

"Oui. I already speak it fluently. And Latin."

"Impressive. You like journalism?"

"Very much. I want to be a journalist someday."

"What about archaeology," she asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'll be like Dad. You know, adventures on the side."

"Ah. You plan to have a family?"

"Definitely," I confirmed.

"Impressive," she said again. "You are quite the young woman."

I blushed. "Thank you." I looked up at the stranger that was my mother and felt a desire to know about her. "So… about you…"

She sighed. "You saw where I lived, what I did."

"I'm looking for a story," I explained. "I know everything about Dad, and hardly anything about you."

"Your dad doesn't tell you all about me?" She joked.

"I think it hurts him too much." It was true. Every time Mom came up in the conversation, he got a pained looked on his face and changed the subject. One time, there had even been tears in his eyes.

"Oh. Well then, I guess I owe you a story since you gave me one. I married your father when I was eighteen. I know now I was too young." I knew just as well she did that she had never considered the marriage a mistake. Dad didn't think that at all either. They were just too scared to admit it.

I knew exactly what they were afraid of. It wasn't of falling in love, after all, they were already there. They were scared of hurting each other again. And they were determined to lie to themselves about it.

"You," she continued, "Were born a year later." I knew a little about that- my dad had told me the story a few times. "And when you were three," she added, "Your brother was stillborn."

"Brother?" I had never heard anything about a brother.

"You would have had one," she explained, "Had he lived. After that, I moved to Nepal, and I've just been working the bar for the past ten years."

"Marie!" Dad called.

"Over here!" I shouted back.

"Marah needs to go back to her mother," Mom told me, standing up.

I was about to protest; I wanted more than anything for the three of us to b a family again. But, I needed to talk to my dad, so I just nodded.

"She gone?" he asked, looking in the direction she had gone.

"Yes. Marah needs to go back to her mother. And I need to talk to you."

"You've been doing that a lot lately," he said, lifting an eyebrow.

"You're my dad," I argued. "That's what you're there for."

"Oh, okay." He smiled. "Was it nice talking to her?"

"Yes." I took a deep breath. "Daddy, tell me about my brother."

He sighed. "There's nothing to tell. He wasn't even really born."

"Well, I mean… Is that what separated you two?"

"It's much more complicated than that. We just couldn't be together anymore." He frowned and looked down at his hands. "I had hurt her too much."


	5. Loss

A/N: I know I haven't updated in a while, I'm sorry

A/N: I know I haven't updated in a while, I'm sorry. But I need your help. The next chapter is going to be difficult for me to write because I have seen the movie all of twice and do not own it (yet). If you can find the script or something online, please send me the link. Thanks!!

Loss

Mom and Dad went to the marketplace the next day. I stayed behind, doing small chores like I did at home. I doubted that essential things such as washing clothes would be done without me. My dad was pretty spacey and tended to forget small, important things.

"Marie!" He had called that morning. "Where's my fedora?"

I rolled my eyes, and Mom, who was in the kitchen with me, laughed. "He's still like that?"

"Oh yeah." I started up the stairs to his room. "Hold on! I'm coming!" I ran there, only to find our things scattered around the room, all our suitcases open. "Here." I produced the hat from an outside pocket of a small suitcase. "It was in the bag with your other stuff, you know, your whip, gun, jacket. Good Lord Dad."

"I definitely couldn't live without you Munchkin."

"I know. You got everything else?"

"I think so. Now, go make sure your mom is ready."

"Where are you taking her?" I asked curiously, picking up my scattered clothes and putting them away neatly.

"Out," he said shortly.

"That's descriptive."

"Eh, the marketplace, maybe lunch."

"Fun." I walked back down to the kitchen and my mom. "You ready?'

She nodded and walked upstairs. "I'll go get him."

They both seemed pretty excited about going out together.

**...**

They were gone all day, and I started to worry, no matter how much Sallah and his wife reassured me it was okay, possibly even good.

Dad finally came home late. Alone. His face was blank and emotionless, but his eyes were full of pain. And tears, I noticed with a start.

"Dad? Dad, are you okay?" I was panicky. "Where's Mom?"

"Dead." His voice was strangled. "They took her, and, and-" his voice broke, and he put his head in his hands, sobbing. "I didn't know the truck was full of explosives. I didn't know, and I tried to save her, I tried to shoot it, stop it, them. I tried to save her and I killed her! My own wife! Marie, I love her. How will I live without her?"

I felt tears pool in my own eyes. I sat in his lap, our arms wrapped around each other, me crying into his chest, he into my hair.

"What now?" I asked after a while, trying to stop my tears.

"I don't know. I don't think we can stay here."

"But- but what about the ark?"

"I just don't think I can be here without her."

"But the Nazi's can't get it!" I was adamant.

He sniffed. "You're right. But… but it hurts. So much."

"Yes, but you've come so far. You can get it, I know you can."

He sighed. "Sallah and I'll leave in the morning, as planned."

…………**.**

I tried to sleep, but to no avail. All I could see was my mother- and dad's face when he came home. And then, I heard the sobbing next door. I picked up my pillow and walked into my dad's room.

"Can I- can I sleep with you?" It didn't matter that I was thirteen years old. I wanted my daddy.

He wiped his eyes and patted the empty space next to him.

I don't think either of us slept that much, but at least we could comfort each other. I felt as if my heart was ripped in half, not necessarily for the mother I hardly knew, but for my father, who was tormented by the pain and guilt.

A/N: Awww!! I feel so bad for poor Indy. sniff. Hopefully it won't ever take me that long to update… but keep the reviews coming!! The 'submit review' button enjoys being pushed. It told me.


	6. Kidnapped

Dad and Sallah left early the next morning, Dad waking me only for a kiss on the cheek. Neither of us knew how long he'd be gone.

I sat around all the day, like the day before, only less worried and sadder. My mother was gone. I had just met her, and she was gone. Gone forever. Dead. It stung like a whip. I couldn't even imagine how my dad must've felt.

Later that day, I went out walking. I promised Sallah's wife that I would not go far. Cairo was dangerous, especially for me. I had no idea how dangerous it really was.

A man in a Nazi uniform grabbed me and flung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I kicked and screamed, but this did not deterr him. He only kept walking, shifting me from time to time. I was thrown in the back of an army truck and we drove away. I screamed, but to no avail. I had been kidnapped.

They shoved me in a tent, tying me up and gagging me, speaking in rapid German. I struggled as hard as I could, but accomplished nothing. I was so hungry and thirsty, and exhausted. My shoulder ached something awful from being jerked around. All I could do was wait. Surely they wouldn't just leave me here to starve. I had to serve some purpose, or else they would not have taken me. I was probably bait for my dad, now that Mom was dead.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, a soldier came to me. "Marie Jones," he said.

I nodded. I was gagged, so speaking was out of the question.

"You will come with me now. I will take you to your parents."

"Parents?" I said through the gag. I only had one parent now. What did he mean by using the plural?

He kept my hands tied and shoved me along the hot sand. Thank God I was wearing jeans, a shirt and boots, and not something ridiculous like a skirt.

"Marie!" I heard a familiar female voice shout my name.

I turned around quickly. "Mom? Mom!"

She grabbed me in a hug. "So they took you too. What will they stop at, kidnapping little girls."

I kissed her cheek. "I thought you were dead. _We _thought you were dead."

"So I've heard," she whispered.

More men grabbed us and we were led to a deep hole, where Belloq was kneeling and shouting into it.

"But I do not wish to leave you down in that awful place, all alone," said a Nazi.

Toht, who had Mom, shoved her forward. "Let us go!" she shouted. "Stop it!" He pushed her down into the hole. She screamed, and I heard Dad screaming as well. Then, Toht grabbed me and threw me down. Dad caught me, thank goodness, but we were surrounded by snakes. I hated snakes. I inherited that from Dad.

Then, Belloq, him and Mom shouting at each other, began to walk away, and they slid a heavy top over us. "No!" I yelled, frozen in my dad's arms, until he put me down.

Dad handed us torches. "Take these. Wave them at anything that slithers."

"My God, the whole place is slithering," Mom complained. "Indy!" she suddenly screamed, waving the torch at his hip. She had thought his whip was a snake. He jumped backward, trying to avoid being burned. "Jeez!"

We continued waving the fire at the snakes, and Mom and Dad argued about the dress she was wearing. She hadn't been wearing it when they went to the marketplace the day before.

"Where'd you get it, him?" Dad snarled.

"I was trying to escape," she growled. "No thanks to you."

"Well, how hard were you trying?"

"And where were you?" she yelled.

"Watch it, watch it," he said, grabbing the bottom of her dress.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Helping the fire," he explained, throwing it on the ground and lighting it.

"Uh, how are we gonna get out of here?" I asked, panicked. There were snakes _everywhere,_ and I was deathly afraid.

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it," he said, looking around.

"Well, whatever you're doing, do it faster," Mom urged.

One wall had snakes climbing out of it. Dad saw it when I did. He started climbing some gigantic statue.

"Where are you going?" Mom asked him quickly.

"Through that wall." He climbed quickly, using the whip for support. "Just get ready to run, no matter what happens to me."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, scared. Snakes jumpeed at Mom and me, fangs bared.

"Indy!" she shouted at the same time I yelled, "Dad!"

"Don't you leave us down here by ourselves!" she protested.

A snake suddenly fell from above, around our necks. We jumped, screaming, Mom throwing the snake off.

Then, he started shaking the statue. "Here we go," he shouted. "Get ready!"

"Dad!"

"Indy!" she looked at our torches. "The torch is going out!"

The staue fell, collapsing the wall. I was afraid that Dad hadn't survived the fall, but he came crawling out, and Mom and I crawled over the debris. I grabbed onto something, which turned out to be a skeleton. Suddenly, Mom and I were surrounded by skeletons. We couldn't stop screaming. They were everywhere, there arms groping us, bodies falling on top of us, and snakes crawling through it all.

"Marie!" Dad yelled. "Marion!" he grabbed us. "Look! Look!" There was light nearby.

He climbed up to where there was a big brick surrounded by light. With our combined strength, we were able to push out the brick and climb through the hole. We were free! Free, that is, onto the Nazi site, hiding. An airplane sat a few dozen yards in front of us.

"They're gonna fly it out of here," Dad explained. "When that ark gets loaded, we're gonna already be on the plane."

"Whoa, wait a second," I said. "The ark has been found?"

"Yeah. I got the correct spot, I got a digging crew, and i found it. And guess who took it."

"I still think we should wish he was dead," I persisted.

"Oh, I came close to sending us both to the other side. Sallah's children saved us at the last second. But you still shouldn't talk like that. You're a young lady."

I snorted. "Part time, _professor_."

Dad, laughing, ran to get the plane, which, of course, had Nazis around it. He fought one, who had a wrench and came close to hitting him, and then a big, bald one came up to him. "You there, come here. Come here," he said. Mom and I climbed under the plane, grabbing the blocks of wood that kept the plane from moving.

Dad was losing bad. The guy was twice his size and packed a mean punch. Dad only got a real break when he threw sand in the man's eyes.

Mom hit the pilot with the wood blocks, and we climbed into the cockpit, only for the door to shut and lock on us, the plane starting when the unconcious pilot fell on the controls. As other Nazis nearby tried to shoot Dad, Mom grabbed the machine gun on the plane and began firing. We yelled warnings.

Then, we saw the gasoline spilling everywhere. "Oh, my God," I whispered.

"Marie. Marion," I heard Dad say.

"In here! Up here!" we yelled.

"Hold on!" he shouted, climbing the plane.

"Move up!" I shouted. "It's gonna blow up!" I tried to open the cockpit. "It's stuck!"

The big bald guy to start hitting him again. And then, we all saw it. The propeller headed straight for the man Dad was fighting. Mom covered my eyes as I heard the sickening chops.

She released my eyes and started banging at the door. "It's stuck!"

"Turn it, turn it!" he yelled.

"It's stuck!" I protested.

"Nevermind! Get back, get back!" he said quickly, shooting the handle. He tore open the door and we scrambled out, not wanting to be blown up.We ran as fast as we could, me being half dragged. And then everything exploded. We ran into a tent, and Dad whistled what could've only been some sort of signal.

Sallah came to us. "Holy smoke, my friends! I... I am so pleased you are not dead!" he hugged all three of us. "Indy, Indy, we have no time, if you still want the Ark. It is being loaded on a truck, for Cairo.

"Truck?" Dad asked. "What truck?"

We ran behind a sand pile, watching as people rushed about, trying to move the Ark safely.

"Get back to Cairo. Get us a transport to England. Boat, plane, anything," Dad ordered. "Meet me at Omar's. Be ready for me. I'm going after that truck."

"How?" Sallah asked, confused.

"I don't know." Dad shrugged.

"He's making this up as we go," I explained. Typical Dad.


	7. Never a Break for the Jones

A/N Very uneventful, I know. But I'm trying to stay as true to the movie as possible, and this was part of the movie. I tried to make it funny, so enjoy!! Review!!

Sallah got us passage on a ship. Mom and I were ready to board when I saw Dad, who was pretty beat up. I ran to him, and gave him a hug, at which he winced. "Sorry," I whispered.

He kissed my forehead. "No problem. Come on, let's get your mom and get on that boat."

His arms around us, Dad greeted Sallah.

"Everything at last has been arranged," Sallah said, shaking our hands.

"And the ark?" Dad asked. It was a primary concern. Well, it was the whole reason for the expedition. The whole reason Mom and I had been kidnapped, we'd been thrown into a pit of snakes, and my dad looked terrible. But no hard feelings for it, I guess. I wanted it in our possession. It was not only an extremely important, long sought after artifact, but way to powerful for the Nazis. Or so they tell me.

"On board," Sallah answered. "Nothing is lacking now that you are here. Or what is left of you." He eyed Dad's wounds, chuckling. Oh yeah, Dad injured was hysterical.

"You trust these guys?" Dad questioned skeptically. Truthfully, it really didn't look like high-class transportation. Not that we had any right to complain.

"Oh, yes. Mr. Katanga!" Sallah called over a man I could only assume to be the captain. "Mr. Katanga, these are my friends. They are my family."

"My cabin is yours," said Captain Katanga. Dad looked at me meaningfully. I knew exactly what that look meant, and I gave him one of my death glares. He shrugged and looked back at the captain, who said what I didn't want to hear. "And there will be a small room nearby for your lovely daughter. Mr. Jones, I have heard a lot about you. Your appearance is exactly as I imagined." He walked away, laughing. I didn't think I liked him very much.

Sallah hugged us all, getting kisses from Mom. When it was my turn, he kissed my forehead. "I'll miss you," I said, teary.

"And I you. I hope that when I see you next you will not be all grown up. You are already getting there." He looked at me. "Promise me you'll invite me to your wedding, and to see your children."

"I promise, Sallah. You will always be my dearest friend."

He hugged me again. "Good-bye sweet Marie. Take care of yourself, and your parents."

I nodded again and rejoined my parents, taking my dad's hand.

"How lucky I am," he said, kissing both Mom and my cheeks, "To be holding hands with the two most beautiful women in the world."

When we were finally on the ship, Dad went to his cabin and Mom went to get a few things. I sat in my room, feeling pretty miserable. She brought me back a navy blue dress that fit like a glove.

"Where'd you get this?" I asked, modeling it from her.

"Katanga. I have a feeling we're not the first women to travel with these pirates." She kissed the top of my head. It was the first kiss she had given me since I was a baby. "Sleep tight."

I was left alone in my closet-like cabin, across the hall and a door down from Mom and Dad.

I sat on the bed, thinking over all that'd happened to me. I had thought my mother was dead, been kidnapped and thrown in a pit full of snakes, my greatest fear, and they left me alone in this tiny, creepy room. Yeah, my parents loved me a lot.

And suddenly, I heard my dad scream. I ran to their room. "Dad! Are you all right?" I yelled through the door.

"I'm fine. Go back to bed," he told me in a strangled voice. "Sleep well. I love you."

I sighed. "Love you both." I went back to my creepy room, lay down, and was so exhausted I was asleep in minutes.

In the morning, I noticed something strange. Silence.

Dad knocked on my door. "I'm going to go see why the engines stopped. Go in there with your mom."

I obeyed, as usual, and sat on the bed next to my mom. "Why did Dad scream last night?" I asked curiously, fidgeting.

She giggled. "I accidentally flipped the mirror into his chin."

"Ouch." We laughed together, and then suddenly stopped. Nazis. I hate them with a passion. Guns aimed at our backs, we were led into the hallway. At least I wasn't being carried like a sack of potatoes. On the down side, there was a gun barrel in my back. I think I'll take the whole carrying thing.

"Stop!" Mom yelled as we were slammed up against a wall. She always screamed at these guys, but it didn't really get us anywhere. "Don't you touch my daughter or me," she warned, poking a soldier in the chest. He shoved us anyway. I knew he would.

They brought us out onto the deck, where I saw the ark, waited to be loaded onto _their _boat. It just kept moving back and forth. Some Nazi who was obviously somewhat in charge turned around and Mom raised her fist to punch him. That was not so safe. Luckily, Katanga grabbed us both to him.

"But what about Jones?" screamed the Nazi.

"Jones is dead," Katanga said, his voice emotionless. My stomach twisted. "I killed him." Please let him be lying. I felt like I was going to be sick. "He was of no use to us. These girls, however, have a certain value where we are headed." I shuddered, and Mom grabbed my hand tightly. "They'll bring a very good price." He brought our hair to his face, and mom squeezed my hand. I was shaking.

"Herr Colonel," Katanga continued, "If that is the cargo you seek, take it and go in peace. But leave us the girls. It will reduce our loss on this trip."

"You are in no position to ask for anything," said the colonel coldly. "We will take what we wish." He grabbed our arms roughly. "And then decide whether or not to blow your ship from the water."

He had my arm in an iron grip, and it felt as if he was going to yank it off. Mom and I gripped each other's hand tightly. I wondered if she was as scared as I was. And I couldn't believe we were being kidnapped _again. _

"The woman comes with me, as my compensation. I am sure your Fuhrer would approve," Belloq said. How I hated that man. "But you may do what you want with the child." My heart went icy with fear.

"No!" Mom shouted. "She goes with me." I never knew she could sound so cold. To me, her voice always radiated warmth.

Belloq chuckled. "Fine. Whatever you wish. Bring your daughter as well." He wrapped his jacket around Mom's shoulders, even though I was shivering, and led us off.

We were put into a submarine, which would take us, and the ark, to God knows where. Belloq had his arm around Mom, which she didn't seem to happy about, and she held my hand. He was taking us somewhere onboard. And then, we stopped, against a door.

"For you, little one," he said, opening the door. It was some sort of storage room with no light, and it was damp. Yuck. He pushed me in, and was about to close the door when mom screamed at him, her eyes burning.

"I swear, if one hair on her head is harmed, _in any way,_ I will kill you!" It was a hissing scream, and it seemed absolutely scary. If I were him, I'd be careful.

But I wasn't him, and I was scared to death. I would never believe him, or any Nazi. But I had to be brave. I was a Jones. "It's okay Mom," I said, tears in my eyes. I blinked, determined not to cry in front of him. He would not have the satisfaction.

"She will not be hurt," Belloq said. "Do not worry." And then he shut the door. I shoved the palm of my hand in my mouth, and screamed.


End file.
